Forsaken
by FireTaster
Summary: *Set in the world of Supernatural* When you have something stripped forcefully, you want it back, by hook or by crook. For Brooke Hough, it was by crook. Life had already cheated her once by stealing her memory and after countless run-ins with figments which are supposed to be part of her hallucinations, she wants it back.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

As weird as it may sound, I wish I could tell you that I have some disability which leads me to the love of my life, mental or physical or simply something from the past come to haunt me now. That the twists and turns of life mold my life towards his in a battle of tears and squeals. That he became mine in the most cruel way possible but I don't regret it. That he's the asshole that every girl wants and every guy wants to be.

Because that would make an amazing, mundane love story, right? But, no. I met him in the cruedest of circumstances and even then we knew we belonged right there, like a bird fluttering back to her nest. We were home.

We are home and I love him with every abject beat of my heart.

PRESENT

Brooke.

BroooOOOok.

BROOK.

I jerk awake to a purely feminine voice screeching my name for me to find grinning baby blues laughing at me. "Jesus, Angie!"I groan and flip my head into the comfort of my pillow. I can practically hear her roll her eyes. "If you don't get your ass up in five minutes, you're gonna be late,"she sings the last part.

"Late for what?"I mumble in my subconscious state. "God, Brooke, now I seriously wish you hadn't sent that manuscript."

"What manuscript?"I grimace. It's a miracle I was able to write my manuscript with Angie and her misconceptions. How the hel-

Manuscript.

My Manuscript. I throw my head back and my roommate's smirking face leaning next to me. "Fuck me,"I exclaim and untangle myself from the sheets hastily . "I prefer men,"she replies snarky and saunters out of my room. My eyes shoot to my side-table clock which reads 8:12 AM.

After five rejections, I finally get an acceptance and I'm going to be late. _Smooth, Brooke. _I tumble towards my closet and sigh in relief. _Atleast__you were smart enough to keep your clothes ready._

Grabbing them, I rush to the bathroom.

_If I take the highway, maybe I can save ten minutes..._

"Brooke, breakfast?"Angie calls out as I limp with one shoe on and the other barely across my heel. "No thanks. Bye, love you, Angie!" I yell as I cross the front door. _...but that depends on the morning traffic..._

"Brooke!" _...is it worth the risk?_

"I said, no thanks, Angie!" _...maybe I can call in late or something. Can you do that?..._

"But-"

"Angie, no means no!" I dash across the apartment stairs and through the lobby. ..._What impression am I leaving anyway?..._

_"_Morning, ,"Clive waves cherrfully fro behind his desk. I nod in acknoledgment and rush outside to the parking lot. _Will they even accept me now!_

I hop into my blue Nissan and scoop my fall of blonde hair above my head, reaching for my keys at 8:16 AM. _ I hope they do. i really need this. Speaking of needs, where are my keys?_

A surge of panic shoots through me and I hit my head on the car seat. _Nice one, Brooke._ Someone clears their throat outside my car and I lean down to find my keys dangling in Angie's petite fingers. "What would you do without me?" she grins. Rolling my eyes, I take my keys from her and waste no time in starting and easing out my car.

My instincts shake their heads vigorously as my stomach churns mercilessly but my mind shakes them off as I take Angie's infamous shortcut that I oh-so-hate so much because who wants to drive their car over a forgotten road paved between a bunch of crippled trees? Desperate women and right now I am bordering insanity.

_This way's longer too,but do I have a choice? _Screw it, I push the accelerator and my car complies, driving down the dusty, broken road with the boulevard of trees grasping each other with bony, terrefying fingers. _He would hate me for taking this way. He hates this way. _I give my head a mental shake.

_He can't stay mad at me for long, he knows it too. _I grin, momentarily forgetting my haste. He might not consider it, but how did I get so lucky? A loud honk makes me jerk. Checking the rearview mirror, I find a black SUV tailing me, blaring it's horn i frustration to make me get out of the way.

_Friggin' rich dicks. _

The honk blares once more and my paitence runs out. I check the rearview mirror once more and instantly still in my place. It takes me everything not to pull over and check where the car from behind went. A quick glance sideways tells me it's not there either.

_What the hell! _The endearing sound of a honk blares again. My fingers curl around the steering wheel menacingly. A new sort of panic surges through me. _He was right. _The honk is there again, but not the car. I'm unprepared here and unsettled.

I race my car with only one thought going out to him. _I'm sorry. _


	2. Chapter 1

ONE

**24th August, 2014. 5:30 PM. **

At the thousand thump of an abject weight in my chest, I force my eyes open to be subjected to spectacular white light and naturally, my first thought is: Am I dead?

The heat I started feeling crawling up my skin minutes ago continues it's fiery ascend as I squint to focus on something. Anything. _Am I really dead? _If I wasn't feeling so numb, I'm sure dread and panic would be there first, but instead an undeniable thirst takes over.

"Brooke,"a distant feminine voice calls for me and I stiffly tilt my head away from the light. A young woman, I presume in her early twenties, stares at me with glistening brown eyes as if I'm a trapped animal. "Brooke,"she speaks again as her form becomes more prominant, sitting nearby.

Narrowing my eyes slightly, I lick my dry lips and am about to ask her about her identity, when she breaks down into sobs in front of me, crawling towards me. "Brooke,"she chokes and only then do I realize that she's adressing me. "You're alive,"she speaks with a watery smile.

I feel my numb insides jerk at her admission while the idea settles deeply in my mind. My atmosphere begins to clear and a beeping sound fills the air with the thick smell of medication. She continues to look at me, but all I want to do is what I'm unable to do-scream.

_Who am I?_

**31st August, 2014. 2:30 PM.**

The raindrops cling to the window and glide gently down. I can't help but trace their pattern with the tips of my fingers.

"Here we are,"comes Angelina's sing-song voice from behind me. Turning my head, I give her a small smile as she nears me with two cups of steaming coffee. Grinning, she plops down next to the fixed setee of her apartment living room. _Our _living room in _our _apartment. An apartment I have no recollection of buying and setting up. The idea still irks me.

Tucking my chin above my knees, I take in the scent of the coffee. "Smells great, Angelina"I appraise, looking up to find her looking eagerly at me. "Angie,"she corrects with a small smile,"you always loved my coffee, or maybe just the idea of making me work to make it." The unanswered thought is evident in her statement: _before you became a stranger. _

"You must be so annoyed,"I sip the cup. Angie shakes a dismissive hand my way. "It's not like you gave me a choice you know." Huffing an amused laugh, I sit back and stare out the window. An awkward silence previals between us and my mind throbs with annoyance of it's arrival.

It's been a week since my discharge and yet, my heart still aches whenever I see Angie's dark head and beady browns because I wish so much that I could remember our time spent, our secrets whispered and our tears spilt.

No girl should face the terror of having her best friend lose every memory they shared.

"So,"I clear my throat and Angie looks up,"any news from the station." She shakes her head apologetically. "They found your car in a fucked up state against a tree but there are no witnesses to relate what happened."

I nod in understanding, sipping my coffee. "But,"she quickly speaks up,"I'm sure you'll remember." Her eagerness once again pokes my heart and all I can do is smile at her, hoping that she's right.

**I am Brooke Hough, Nineteen years old and studying at Georgetown University with English as my major. I want to become a writer and have four manuscripts waiting for approval. My family is dead but I have a trust fund to keep me covered and Angie has been my best friend and only family for fifteen years. I'm allergic to peanuts and my favourite band is Green Day.**

My mind averts back to my psychiatrist appointment three days back. "And do you find any familiarity in these facts?" had asked. I had simply shrugged and looked away. "I don't even remember what a Green Day is,"I laugh nervously.

Her specualtive eyes remian blank as she writes in her notepad. "How does that make you feel, Brooke?" she asks the million dollar question which makes me laugh bitterly. "Doctor,"I start,"we panic when we can't remember where we last placed our car keys or cell phone or class notes. I lost the memory of my whole life here, so yeah, it's fucking with my mind."


End file.
